Jeans and Pleather
by currycutie4427
Summary: an unnecessary continuation of Grave Bells "Pleather and Jeans"


a continuation of Grave Bells wonderful fic Pleather and Jeans - s/7320335/1/Pleather-and-Jeans

i just couldn't help myself, apologies all around

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_"Y-your jeans f-feel really good…" Baljeet mumbled through bitten lips, half-strangled back pants and whines escaping his throat._

"Yea..?" Buford stopped his torture for the moment. His hand squeezed the abused flesh below him as he looked around. There was a short drawer beside the couch. Maybe…

"_Mmm_," Baljeet moaned impatiently, pressing back slightly into the large hand only to push forward again. His fingers twisted and clawed into the couch cushion as his cock ground again against Buford's denim clad thigh. "Aah.."

Buford groaned again, hiding it with a clearing of his throat. "S'what happened to goin on stage?" he teased, hand rearing back once again. It hit the mottled rump with another resounding smack. The nerd's body jumped under the contact and his knuckles grew whiter, still clutching to the cushion below them.

Buford grinned and leered. He leaned over to the nearby drawer, still stroking his nerd's backside, and opened it. It didn't take much rifling around before he found what he was looking for- a small, unsealed jar of vaseline. "We could get called up any minute, 'member?"

Baljeet whined again, pressed back again, rolled forward again. He was getting lost in the pleasure of the short, mechanical movements, and almost forgot about their current surroundings. But he found himself becoming less and less concerned- they could have been on stage this very second for all he cared. And he wanted Buford to shut up about this mental vacancy and just keep hitting him, for once. "For-for_get _about- AH!"

Another palm landed sharply on his bottom, and then all at once Buford's hands were gone.

Baljeet nearly whimpered- until he glanced behind him and saw Buford opening a pale yellow jar. "Wh-what-" his eyes grew wide, and a little bit of his mind cleared. No not that, not _here_. He was just planning on getting off on his bully's leg, scolding him, cleaning up and fixing his appearance before leaving the dressing room. They certainly couldn't get this done in such a short amount of time.

"Hey-" he started again, only to be sushed by another swift smack. "Mmh…" Baljeet lowered his head between his arms and writhed his hips again against Buford.

"We-we do not have _time_ for-"

"Shuddup, I know what I'm doin'." Buford shifted his legs as he dipped his first two fingers into the gooey lubricant. He was pressing uncomfortably against his zipper. He chewed his lip as he drew his fingers out of the jar and immediately slipped them down between Baljeet's cheeks.

"_Ah_-" the nerd gasped at the sudden slick digits coating his skin, one thick fingertip pressing urgently against his entrance.

It took a few seconds for Baljeet to focus and relax, and the single finger slipped inside him. Buford didn't waste any time sinking himself knuckle deep before pulling it out nearly all the way, then pushing it back inside.

Baljeet's eyes widened and squeezed shut with every push and draw in and out. It was painful and uncomfortable at first, but Buford _did_ know what he was doing in this regard, and he certainly hadn't skimped on the lube. Soon his hips were pulling away and pressing back on their own, quickly matching in time with the bully's rapid pace.

Buford felt Baljeet moving with him and let a groan escape his lips freely. He could feel the cold pool of precum staining his jeans as his nerd ground even faster against him. The smaller boys lengthy moans were only getting him harder. He started humping up against Baljeet's stomach, laying firm and bare over his lap. It didn't take long for Baljeet to get the message.

He sat up and back onto his knees, careful not to disrupt Buford's fingers, and reached a hand down between them, quickly finding and tracing the outline of his erection through his jeans. With his dry hand Buford quickly helped him unbutton and pull open his fly.

Baljeet reached into his boxers and took hold of him without haste. Buford immediately grunted at the contact- Baljeet had never been so enthusiastic about this stuff before, especially after being so mad about the very concept. But his long, thin fingers wrapped around his cock as if all this were his own idea and began pumping him smoothly.

Baljeet sat up again to work a leg over Buford's lap, consequently letting his fingers fall away from him. Buford was still knuckle deep in his ass, making it hard to resituate themselves- finally Buford pulled out and lifted Baljeet around the waist, putting him down ontop of his lap, facing him, a knee pressed into each side.

Baljeet chewed his lip as Buford's hands went right back to his ass, a cheek in each palm, and the nerd reached down to grab his cock again, this time adding his own neglected piece to his fist. Baljeet rubbed them together, reveling in the short, guttural noises he was coaxing out of his bully and trying not to get too loud himself.

Buford's breath hitched every time those large, dark eyes glanced up at him, only to dart quickly back down to his chest. Baljeet just didn't get how attractive he was, how he knew just what buttons to push to turn Buford on. He was terribly self-conscience in a way, for some reason Buford just couldn't figure out.

And that outfit. His lean, tanned stomach showing under that pristine white belly shirt, shiny choker, tight pants still clinging to his thighs. He hadn't gelled his flat ironed curls yet, so his now straight hair hung down over his temples and eyes. He had managed to smudge his oh so perfectly applied eye liner down the side of his cheeks and the effect was somehow even more… _damn_.

He was close. Buford's head rolled back and his eyes closed, making Baljeet start and tighten his fist. He bucked his hips along with Bufords, hastening his pace. Meanwhile Buford was starting to burrow his finger back inside of him, now bringing his second still lubed digit to his hole as well. He slipped both fingers right on in rather easily. Baljeet hitched and whined, squeezed his eyes shut before stopping his fist for a moment to adjust to the larger intrusion. It didn't take long for Buford to start moving again, and once Baljeet was relaxed enough he blinked several times, eyes unfocused, and started moving his fist again.

They rocked against each other for what felt like hours, but in reality were mere seconds. Buford stretched and prodded deep within Baljeet. There was another sudden jump and startled cry from the nerd, and Buford grinned and pushed right into that spot again. Baljeet's scream seemed to echo in the tiny dressing room.

Buford readjusted his fingers so he could hit against his prostate in rapid succession, enjoying each shout and cry he wrangled out of the boy far too much. Baljeet's hand around them froze again as each prodded nerve frying wave of pleasure rocked him to his core. His eyes flew shut again, mouth open with cries both silent and piercing.

For a moment Buford wondered if they _were_ being too loud. Maybe Baljeet did have a point earlier. There were way too many people outside that, especially Phineas or Ferb, could walk in at any moment- it'd definitely be a mood breaker. Then, with another wide grin, Buford took his free hand and ran it up under Baljeet's tiny shirt. He wrapped the bottom of it around his fist and then shoved the wadded up cloth into Baljeet's mouth.

Baljeet's eyes widened and his brows furrowed, but he quickly saw what Buford meant. He huffed nonetheless and took his hands away from Bufords cock, putting them instead up around Buford's shoulders. It hadn't mattered at this point. Their erections were still pressed firm together, and Baljeet's hips were thrusting between Buford's fingers and his lap.

The muffled screams continued as Buford bucked up against Baljeet's cock with each sway of his hips. They couldn't last much longer.

And then they short but exploded, almost at the same time. Buford came hard and short across Baljeet's bare stomach while Baljeet hit mostly on Buford's already stained shirt and the lap of his jeans.

Their rocking slowed as they rode out the last of their orgasms.

Buford found a possibly clean towel in the drawer. He wiped off his hands and shirt then handed it to Baljeet, who groggily cleaned his stomach and hands without wondering where it had come from.

Baljeet spat the shirt out of his mouth, breathing heavily. His legs were numb from kneeling so awkwardly and the twisted pleather pants were beginning to cut off his circulation. He pushed himself off of Buford and pulled up his underwear and pants. He was still trying to catch his breath when he glanced across the room at the make up mirror.

And then his breath caught in his throat anyway.

The liner wasn't so waterproof afterall- stark black smeared the corners of his red eyes. His shirt was damp and wrinkled from where he bit into it. His knees buckled with the pain of the spanking and fingering- he wasn't sure if he could take a step without wincing. He looked at himself in the mirror, grimacing, looking at his raw bitten, swelled lips, teary eyes and chewed up front of his shirt. He turned on Buford with a tight frown.

"I cannot believe you!"

The bully was too sated to care. He readjusted himself and zipped his jeans back up, letting his nerds shrill tantrum fall easily to deaf ears.

"So close to curtain, and you do not even care how important this is to me, you just want everything for yourself! Ooh and look at me, I look like…" Baljeet leaned back into the mirror to attempt to fix the smeared eye liner.

But Buford simply laughed from the couch. "Y'look like a _rocker._"


End file.
